


This is a Bad Idea

by Jenna_Nicole



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Is Sunshine, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Makes Puns, Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Ladynoir, Chat Noir Being Chat Noir, Chat Noir/Ladybug Fluff, Chat Noir/Ladybug-centric, Established Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Established Relationship, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Frustrated Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, LadyNoir - Freeform, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Minor Adrien Agreste/Ladybug, Minor Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Miraculous Ladybug Love Square, Oblivious Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir and Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Pre-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Secret Identity, Secret Identity Fail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22709239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenna_Nicole/pseuds/Jenna_Nicole
Summary: A series of one-shots that tell the story of Ladybug and Chat Noir going as far as they possibly can to see each other without figuring out each other's identities. Basically, they have some awfully bad ideas, mainly Chat, but it usually results in a lot of fun chaos. Each chapter can stand on its own but they still will all go together chronologically. Who knows how many there will be? Not me, that's for sure.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	1. Those Three Magic Words

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is the same as my story "Those Three Magic Words" but I put in a second one shot because I love you. 
> 
> Anyway, every time I see this scene on The Flash I instantly see Ladynoir so I had to write it. The dialogue is almost completely the same dialogue from Season 4, Episode 4, so I must give credit where credit is due. Also, a few lines were suggested by the lovely MoonlightShine (Killervibe) who is incredible btw, you should all check out her work.
> 
> Note that the rating is teen and up but implications of something more explicit are there even if the story never gets to that point.

Those Three Magic Words

He found her in the pitch black, silhouetted in shades of neon blue, all from the tiny glint of city light streaming through the hotel window. But she was concealed, the only thing standing out to him was the slight shadow of her facial features and two specks of light that must be her midnight eyes. And of course, her figure encompassed his entire line of vision whether he could truly see her or not. 

He clung to her t-shirt as she neared him, letting his hands fall to her bare arms, then wrap around her waist to bring her closer. She was shining as blue light disappeared from view and she brushed his lips, a smile tugging against his skin. 

She studied him too, a mess of hair and two brilliant eyes revealing the only light in his black figure. Despite her fears of what this plan would entail, she saw less of him than she did on the Paris rooftops, but the draw wasn’t about what she saw, exactly. It was being able to hold bare hands and feel the warmth of his body, as a human just as herself, and stare into his authentic green eyes. And see him as truly him, the man behind the mask. 

They were brand new, like this, if you could even call them that. Five years of partnership had brought them together in deeper ways than most humans could comprehend, far deeper than any lover, best friends, or familial relationship. In every way a person could know another, they did, with every intricacy, with every flaw, fear, or anxiety. They must have seen each other’s souls somewhere on the battlefield, whether it be the invisible string connecting them as soulmates or the way their two halves were insufficient without the other for balance. They were human beings, but they were something else too. And they knew each other fiercely. 

But the simple things, like their faces, names, addresses, friends...were hidden safely. For their own safety, yes. For others too. For the universe. 

That didn’t mean the longing left. That didn’t mean the warmth of touch, the names they couldn’t say, and the unspoken “I love you”’s weren’t there. It just meant they had a duty. A duty that surpassed even themselves. Which is why they had to be careful. Which is why this was a bad idea. Adrien knew this. 

But after five years of ups and downs and complicated feelings. Painful rejections and backstabbing friends and family. When he tried to move on, she fell hard. When he came back, she gave up. After five years of the best and worst of times, all while they held the balance of creation and destruction, Ladybug and Chat Noir finally found each other. 

And tonight they would take a step closer. 

“This is a bad idea,” she mumbled. Pushing back her long black hair, she moved in first, letting her hand brush his face as if to memorize it, her fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. As he swallowed, she pulled in, pressing her lips to his cheek, creating a trail that led its way across his brow, down his jawline, and then eventually, to his mouth. Repetitive, tiny little kisses, sprinkling him with a taste of his lady, causing him to hum in satisfaction. 

Adrien urgently pulled her forward, one of his hands falling to her waist while the other rested on her thigh, his sparkling eyes asking a question that she could only answer with a soft sigh. And he answered, kissing her back tenderly, his chest gasping, eyes wide with thrill. He came at her as if she was his only air supply, his lady, holding onto him with the same ecstatic softness. He could have cried in happiness, wanting so long to touch her face like this, almost right there, right at the tip of the precipice that was her, his. All his. _Almost_ his. 

He kissed her as if he was begging with her, pleading to find more, to see more, to see anything at all. Maybe she would grant him a peek. Not her body, no, but her. Initials, birthdays, something. Anything. He kissed her more, again and again, and again, and then, he paused. 

She gasped, stopping short, her eyes wide with question. 

“Look, I was thinking.” 

Chat’s _brilliant_ thinking was the very reason they were in this position, dangerously close to blowing their covers, she mused, resisting her urge to pout vigorously. On second thought, she decided, her body still trembling with excitement, Chat’s thinking had led her to this moment and this moment was nothing she wished to pull herself from. Not even close. “No, no Kitty, less thinking, more kissing.” That was why they were cozied up in a pitch-black hotel room, wasn’t it? 

Unsuccessfully leaning in for more, she whined when he began to speak again. “Okay, but hold on a minute. This thing we’ve got going on. This is really good.” 

Frustratedly, wanting to cut him off with her lips, she sent him a glare. “It’s okay,” she murmured, attempting to sound dissatisfied. 

“What?” he asked, just two green lights looking at her in question. 

“Ha, I’m just kidding, it's better than okay,” she whispered, her smile growing warm again as she brushed his lips. 

Nodding vigorously, with relief flooding his features, he pushed his words further. “Yeah, that’s right. It’s better than okay,” he confirmed, trying not to give in to the brilliant blue staring at him. “But because of that, I think we’re at a place in our relationship where the guy says to his girl…those three magic words.” 

She looked like a deer in the headlights from where he sat, his intention never being to grip her heart with fear, but to playfully pry at something, just to see if she’d give. 

“Wha-what three words?” she asked, trying to swallow the tension, of the implication, of what he might say, whether she wanted to hear it or not. He had said it before, still in his youth, and she could still feel the sting of his hurt, now pounding inside of her as she startled in his grasp. But now, hardly a child anymore, she knew in all her delusions that it would be far too real, undoubtedly, undeniably, heart wretchedly real. 

But instead, he leaned close, his question causing her to tremble under his bare hands. “What’s...your…name?” 

Once the fear stopped seizing her heart and relief elated her, she lit up, her face twisting into a smirk.“Um, well, oh, that is technically 4 words.” 

“Mm...actually technically it's 3 words. Cause contractions are words. It’s how grammar works...that’s not the point though,” he said, just as a passing car lit up her face momentarily, causing him to grow even more desperate. “What’s...your...name?” 

She sighed. “Ladybug. My name is Ladybug.” 

“Really?” he laughed, shaking his head. “You were born and someone was like, ‘I’m gonna name you Ladybug”

Turning away to gaze at the neon window, she bit her lip, trying to repress a laugh, but she quickly recovered with a defeated expression. “Ugh, that would be Tikki...and Ladybug is what I like to be called. It is mysterious.” 

Chat leaned back on the headboard, crossing his arms. “Mysterious is right.” 

At this point, it was becoming a game. They valued their secrecy, sure, but they were being careless with it recently. Like that time with the blindfolds. And the video chatting. And the risky interactions as civilians, when Marinette would almost reference inside jokes when she saw Chat, and Adrien would nearly spill out pet names the second he saw Ladybug. They knew the risks but they were both tired. They kept pushing it. Their slips were becoming more frequent. There was a thin line keeping them in check and they both knew someday they would both pass it. 

But Ladybug was always the strong one, or so, she pretended. 

“Alright,” she finally said, pulling Chat closer to her, so that their noses touched, a slight smirk flashing her features as she temptingly brushed his lips, her eyes gazing at him in a new determination that he hadn’t witnessed before. For the first time since she had told him she felt something too, he felt clarity, because she wanted him. She truly wanted him. And not like he already knew, but right then, as she brushed his lips again, her eyes clearer now and urgent, he knew that she longed for him. 

But then, just as he almost forgot his question and gave into her steady eyes, her touch left him, and instead she pushed him back, his heart nearly somersaulting from his body at the rush of urgency and the sudden disappointment as he watched her figure turn away from him. 

But then, she laughed, and he swore he had never heard her laugh like that before, but he was addicted. “

I’m gonna go to the bathroom, and when I come back you better stop asking me my real name.” Then she paused, a burst of nervous laughter emerging, causing Chat to become giddy. “...and be wearing less clothes." 

Red-faced and jovial, he had nearly forgotten that he had just lost. Curling himself up on the mattress, he was spinning, his smile growing as the bathroom light switched on. “I don’t need to know your name.” 

Muffled by the bathroom fan, her voice came with tandem elation. “Hey, no purring when I get back.” 

He shook his head as if she could see him, a Cheshire like grin bursting at his lips.

The bathroom light switched off and the door slipped open, and all he could see was a silhouette of his lady, and he wasn’t in the state to make promises. 

“I can’t make any promises, My Lady.” 


	2. A Really, Really Bad (Good) Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You made me a replica Chat Noir mask?” 
> 
> “Nope, I made you a Ladybug mask. The black one's mine.”

A Really, Really Bad (Good) Idea 

Ladybug was at the edge of the roof, her long black braid swaying as she nervously paced. Chat watched calmly, still grinning at the unexpected response he had received. He had texted her the night before with a proposition, one that he hadn’t expected her to entertain, and surely hadn’t expected to find himself going through with. But after a very long hour where he hadn’t received a single response, his evening was made when a quick “fine” came through just as he was about to drift off. 

“This is a really, really bad idea Chat,” she said finally, letting her handmade tote bag land next to her feet. She looked mortified when she glanced at Chat, who was still waiting on her, his goodhearted expression causing her to relax considerably. 

But then he had to ruin it. “If you think my ideas are so bad, you should come up with some.” 

She crossed her arms, marching toward him. “I come up with lots of ideas,” she protested, turning to him pointedly. “Actually, I come up with all of the ideas when we fight Akuma.” 

“None of them involve getting out of our suits.” he pouted, taking her new black-gloved hand and pressing it to his own, aiming his large eyes at her pleadingly. He knew how deeply she despised this motion, knowing she would never be able to back out of his suggestion now. Not when he was looking at her like that. 

But she did manage to look away, frowning to herself. “Okay, so? We’re a lot more than the physical, aren’t we?” 

He rolled his eyes, turning her back around to face him, standing up so that she would have no choice but to look at him. “Of course we are Bugaboo. I’ve _seen_ your body. But It’s not your body I want to see.” 

Her expression softened as she looked at him, suddenly struck by how tall he had become. She could hardly get her head on his shoulder unless she stood on her tiptoes. But despite his grown body, almost Panthère Noire-like in comparison to the kitty she met five years ago, he still felt so very much like Chat Noir. His eyes gave it away, looking down at her as if she was something better to look at than the setting sun just behind her. 

“Okay, yes. I know.” 

Bouncing back from the soft expression that made her dizzy, his face twisted to a smirk, peering down at her with mock arrogance. “And besides, you always enjoy my ideas better anyway.” 

She wanted to, and even tried to protest, but instead took his hand in defeat. “I hate you,” she mumbled half-heartedly, secretly knowing that everything he was saying was true. That she enjoyed the risk just as much as he did. That she wanted to be caught by his green eyes, exposed in and out. That her plans were too safe, too calculated. They never resulted in the same sort of bliss that Chat’s plans entailed. 

Leaning close to her ear, he began to whisper. “That’s not what you said in that hotel room.” 

Ladybug looked away, her face growing hot at the memory. “We will _never_ repeat the things that were said in that hotel room.” 

He complied with her wishes, swooping over to peel her bag from the roof edge before his arm found its way back to the crook of hers. She tugged him forward, pulling them both to the peak of the roof where they plummeted, a mess of sheer red and black hair beside him. If not for his catlike agility, he might have stumbled, caught speechless yet again by her new wings. 

They both landed gracefully, Ladybug’s light wings covering her now like a cape as she straightened her position. He rose to meet her, removing his claws from the ground where he had steadied himself. 

With an exaggerated sigh, she took his hand, avoiding his outstretched claws, and pulling him so that they were hidden in a secluded alleyway. She still looked nervous, attempting to fix her hair as she glanced at her reflection in a store’s back window. That was enough of a sign that this wasn’t going to work. 

But she was tired of working so hard at keeping her face and name from her favorite person in the universe. If he found out, a part of her didn’t care. She couldn’t help but be reckless. 

So she turned her back to him as he did the same, fidgeting a bit as she glanced around a second time for passing civilians. “We should be doing this indoors.” 

“Nobody is here, don’t worry.” 

“Chat, how can you be sure?” 

“I’d smell them,” he said, reaching back to squeeze her hand encouragingly. And then, without much warning, he said the words. “Plagg, claws in.” 

She felt worse about the whole situation when he extended another encouraging pat with his bare hand. 

“Your turn,” he whispered as if she wasn’t aware of that.

She rolled her eyes, closing her eyes in her nervousness. “Okay, okay...spots off.” And she stood there, frozen still for a few moments, releasing another heavy breath. 

“Hey, it’s totally fine,” he said, letting his own eyes fall closed. “This is just like our night at the hotel. I won’t look.” 

She nodded carefully, examining the hand she was holding, distracting herself by the touch of his body in the pure daylight. “I know. I trust you.” 

But did she trust herself? There was a part of her that so desperately wanted to turn around and just see him. See all of him. For the first time in five years. Sure, their relationship in its romantic nature was fairly new, but even outside of that, of course, she had always wanted to know who Chat was. 

Her fear had never been about him. 

Her fear had always been about herself. 

“Okay, so I’m going to lead you to my apartment now. Keep your eyes shut tight,” he said, pulling her out of her thoughts, his hand warmly tugging on hers. 

“And what about your eyes?” she protested, pulling herself so that she was farther behind him, as he led the way. 

“My eyes will be straight ahead, trying not to trip.” And he did as he said he would, walking around the end of the alley and dragging them both to the main road. 

“This is a bad idea,” she said again, stumbling awkwardly behind him with her eyes clenched shut. 

“Well, we had to detransform. We can’t just walk into my apartment building in our suits. The neighbors will talk.” He didn’t want to mention the added bonus of being a public figure, which would make the entire situation all that much worse. 

“Which is why we shouldn’t be doing this in the first place,” she said, glaring through closed eyes despite that he couldn’t see her expression. 

“Don’t worry, it will be fine,” he said, waving his arm around casually, tightening his grip around her wrist with the other one as they neared the crosswalk. 

“What if I’ve been to your apartment before?” she asked, nearly walking straight into his side as he stopped for a car. 

After muttering a soft apology and repositioning himself so that she wasn’t in his eyesight, he shook his head to himself. “Doubt it. I’ve only had a handful of friends over.” 

“Did you turn around all your pictures?” 

“Of course,” he said, trying to repress a smile as he gritted his teeth, the walk to his apartment was far too long to walk on foot considering they could have just leaped there by rooftop. But Ladybug wanted to take precautions and she didn’t want the slightest clue as to where he lived. 

“And you’ll take me right to your bedroom,” she continued, trying to clarify the seriousness of the situation. 

“You’ll be the only girl who’s ever seen my bedroom,” he said softly. 

She turned her head away, trying to avoid blushing. “Okay.” 

“And I will drop you off at a neutral location first thing in the morning,” he added on, nudging her shoulder. 

“You promise?” 

“I Promise. Cat’s honor.” 

Though he couldn’t see her, he knew she still didn’t look completely convinced. “This is still a really, really bad idea.” Tikki, shifting in her purse, sighed in agreement.  
“I think I can change your mind,” he said, motivation causing him to pick up speed. 

She sighed, glancing at the pavement so she could at least see her feet, dangerous as it was to risk opening her eyes. But maybe not as dangerous as her falling and getting hurt despite Chat’s protests that he had her. 

“Ugh, well it can’t be worse than that time with the blindfolds.” 

He laughed. “You have a point there.”

After another few blocks of similar mishaps, they arrived in front of Adrien’s apartment building after only tripping four times, which was impressive, considering she had never been as graceful without her suit. 

“Home sweet home,” he said proudly, gripping Marinette’s arm as he nudged her toward the steps. He was quietly praying that he wouldn’t have to interact with any of his neighbors, or worse, have to answer their questions. 

But could he ever catch a smidge of the luck Ladybug possessed? Clearly not. His fears were proven when he heard a voice behind them in the hallway. “What are you doing?” 

Adrien froze with Marinette audibly gasping behind him, but he gathered composure and looked up at the woman. “Sorry, Madame, I know how bizarre this looks. My girlfriend got ketchup in her eyes.” 

Going along with it, Ladybug squinted harder. “It _stings_!”

He nodded repeatedly, trying not to look too suspicious as he began moving again down the hallway. “Yeah, I’m getting you home to wash out that ketchup," he said, hoping the lady wouldn't catch his nervous expression. But he kept walking until he finally found himself at his front door, hoping they were convincing enough to keep the woman from calling the police. He didn’t wish to worry about that, he decided, pushing the door forward. 

Since they were out of earshot, Marinette punched his arm. “Ketchup?! This is already a disaster. What if she would have called you by your name?” 

To Ladybug's displeasure, Chat Noir was practically doubled over, laughing. “Well, the way I see it, we wouldn’t have to sneak around like this anymore, and that’s a win.” 

She groaned, letting go of his hand and mumbling “spots on” under her breath. She just stood there in his kitchen with her eyes shut tight and her arms crossed. 

Still admittedly having a good time during all of this, he very enthusiastically said, “Claws out!” before immediately turning to her with a smug expression. But she stayed in place, slowly undoing her arms and holding one out. So he took it, leading her to his bedroom as she blindly huffed all the way down the hallway. 

When they finally arrived in his bedroom, she said for the second time that day, “I hate you.” 

“Don't say that, LB. You can relax now. We have arrived. This is where I take my catnaps.” 

Ladybug slowly opened her eyes, relieved to see Chat as Chat and a very neutral room that didn’t give her any blaring hint at his identity. Which was very good. The only thing she gathered was the quality of his furniture, which honestly, looked a bit too fancy for the fairly small apartment bedroom they were in. But she wasn’t about to allow herself to think further on the issue. She wanted to show Chat what she had worked on. She reached over to the bed where Chat had tossed her bag. 

But before she could unveil her masterpieces, Chat presented two horribly manufactured masks. 

“Chat, we can’t wear those,” she said, taking them and smoothing them out on his bed, examining the stitching carefully. If the horrendous work could even be considered stitching. He must have walked into the first convenient store he saw and grabbed these just for shock value. They were too small, covered in glitter, and by no means, built to stay on for anything more than light wind. He had said in his messages the night before that they were “purr-fect.” These were far from it. 

“Sure we can!” he said, grabbing his defiantly, about to command Plagg to drop his transformation. 

“They will fall off the second I kiss you,” she explained, and then she paused, glancing at his toothy grin. “That’s the point, isn’t it?” 

He responded with an overly dramatic whine, flopping himself onto the bed. 

“I knew this would happen. So,” she said with a grumble, reaching for her bag. “I made my own.” 

He peered up, narrowing his cat eyes at her with interest. “You made me a replica Chat Noir mask?” 

“Nope, I made _you_ a Ladybug mask. The black one is mine.” 

Bolting toward the other end of the bed where she had placed the new masks, he immediately began to examine them, a reluctant smile gaining on his face. “I hate that I love this so much,” he said, poking at her, feeling the fabric in his hand. “Wait. You really did _make_ these.” 

“Anyway,” she continued, turning away from him so she could drop her transformation. “This way we don’t have to worry about any accidents.” 

Flipping his polka-dotted mask around in his hand, he smiled, noting how secure she had made the straps. Also, noticing how much time she had put into making them. Despite his disappointment, knowing they might go another day without seeing each other in the way he hoped, he was still touched by the sentiment, knowing that she had made the masks all with him in mind and this night being its purpose. 

Her mood had clearly shifted for the better once they had put on the masks.

He hadn’t seen her outfit until just then, being that she wouldn’t allow him to throw her a glance before when she wasn’t wearing a mask, but he was struck still for a moment, taking in the way the black dress hugged her curves, with the sway of her hips as she approached him. She looked so confident, and he very suddenly lost all the confidence he possessed. She was just much clearer now than she had been at the hotel. 

“I don’t know why I bought this dress,” she said, shrugging as she sat across from him. 

Chat just stared at her, shrugging back. 

“It’s not like I’ll be wearing it long anyway.” 

He laughed, scooting closer to her eagerly. 

“But I really wanted a dress to match the black mask.” 

“It looks great,” he said, pausing softly as he studied her eyes as if he had never looked at them before. Then he found her face, letting his hands trace the edge of her cheek, a smirk bursting as she nuzzled the top of his nose, whispering, “My Kitty.” 

“Can I kiss you, Lady Noire?” he asked carefully, slipping his hand to the strap of her dress, smiling intently as he kissed her shoulder. 

She sighed as if thinking, allowing herself to lean into him. “Since you’ve been so polite, I don’t see why not.” 

He did as asked, lifting her chin so that she could look at him level eyed, his arms wrapping around her like a shield. He pulled her in, kissing her softly first and then digging deeper, his fingers cupping her face delicately while his kisses grew more aggressive, which only led to his Lady muttering “Mr. Bug,” while giggles tickled his lips. He sighed, playing again with the strap of her dress, pulling on it slowly as she leaned in, helping him by removing the other side and pulling it away. He had never in his life seen her so vividly as he did, pulling away for a brief moment of breath, his grin growing monstrous as the lowering sun lit up her figure. 

Slipping out of the rest of her dress, she grinned, knowing it would go on to be a long night. 

* * *

Adrien woke up beside his Lady, his arm still reaching over her back while her face nuzzled into his pillow. He paused, lifting himself upward, his eyes drifting to her rising body, moving slightly as she breathed. She had allowed herself to stay till morning, putting her trust in her partner despite how easy it would have been for him to break that trust. All he would have had to do was lift the mask while she slept. 

But despite the longing that never let him rest, he pushed himself to self-control. Even if that meant he would have to sit through his own racing thoughts every night, naturally trying to put the pieces together despite his better judgment. “I love you,” he whispered, despite it, placing a kiss on the top of her head as he removed himself from the bed. 

He made his way around the bed, letting his mind drift again. Of the heat of the night. Of her wild, searching eyes. Of her laughter. Of her discarded dress in a heap by his bathroom door. 

Adrien, picking up the garment carefully, beginning to fold it, allowing himself to linger on the smell of her perfume still clinging to it. 

He didn’t want to wake her. Didn’t want her to go. If he had it his way, she would never leave his side. Never return to her civilian life and he would never return to his. There was a lot of trust placed there, and if he didn’t know her like the back of his own hand, perhaps he would be worried that she had another man. Even trusting her, his stomach would still turn at the thought, knowing there must be guys who looked at her, wanted her, maybe even asked for her. And what did she say to them? Did she let them know she was taken? 

He had the same dilemma when his own friends would ask about his love life. It was difficult to explain since he didn’t exactly want word getting out that he was dating Ladybug. But he also needed a good explanation as to why he couldn’t be with any of the girls that practically threw themselves in his direction. He used his lack of time as a restraint mostly, making it clear that he couldn’t be with them even if he wanted to. And it was true, any of his free time was quickly filled by his Lady whether it be by dates or patrols. The only person he had told the full truth to, well almost the full truth to, was Nino. It was quite a risk telling him since he had never been the best at keeping secrets, but to his utter shock, Nino’s loyalty somehow remained stronger than his loose lips around his nosy girlfriend. 

Regardless of one person knowing that he spent his nights with Ladybug, it was still difficult. He just wanted to be able to show her off. Take her home. Marry her, even. He laughed, knowing they weren’t ready for that. She wasn’t anyway. Adrien had probably been ready to marry Ladybug since he was fourteen. 

He sighed, knowing he should let it all go. Knowing that it was safer this way. Better for everyone. 

Sometimes it didn’t feel like it was. 

He shuffled toward the window, his mind racing to find a good spot to drop off Ladybug, just as his foot caught on a small piece of material. Feeling for it, he looked down, nearly gasping. 

_Her mask_. 

He just stared at it for a while, his pulse pounding in his ear, heart stopped solid for a brief moment as he reached toward it. He glanced over at her, her face still buried in the covers and the pillow, unsuspecting and clueless. 

He picked up the item, brushing his hands over her neat stitching again, a small smile glimmering down at her hard work. _She’s going to be so pissed that she didn’t make it secure enough._

“Cat got your tongue?” She asked innocently, as Adrien slammed his fists over his eyes to block her from her view. 

Then he paused, letting a smile slip. “Many, many times,” he whispered, his face flushing. Then, blindly opening up his hand, presenting the mask. “I think this belongs to you.” 

She gasped, covering her own face as he stood there with his eyes still clenched shut, a deep blush growing across his face as they stood in awkward silence. “I didn’t see anything,” he squeaked out after a few moments. “Your face was buried in the pillow.” 

“Okay, good,” she said, slipping the mask back on. 

He sighed sadly. “You were right. This was a bad idea. Next time you can come up with something.” 

She moved from the bed, walking up to touch the side of his face and brushing her hand over his masked face. “Open your eyes,” she whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

He complied, still looking guilty. 

“It was a great idea,” she reassured, kissing him again softly. “Now, drop me off at our usual spot, yes?” 

“Yes.” 

And then she breathed, almost muttering the words “i love you,” but settling for, “It was a really, really good idea. I’d never take it back.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. More to come.


End file.
